


Sing For Me

by cyanideinsomnia



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Decisions, Bad Flirting, Complicated Relationships, Drinking, Drinking Songs, Drinking to Cope, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Human Disaster Julian Devorak, Lucio (The Arcana) Is A Little Shit, M/M, Pre-Canon, Red Plague (The Arcana), Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25924108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia
Summary: On the night of Nadia's birthday party, Julian hears something peculiarly similar to singing coming from the Count's wing, and goes to investigate.
Relationships: Julian Devorak & Lucio, Julian Devorak/Lucio (The Arcana)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Sing For Me

**Author's Note:**

> including the ring cause she has it in her travel pack for haunted holiday, indicating she JUST got it, and i figured going to the summer palace was part of her birthday celebration
> 
> marked as lovers and friends bc these idiots don't know what they are

The Goose was still very much loose when Julian finally made his way back into the Palace, dancing along the hallway heedless of the heavy weight of waterlogged clothing and the small river it produced in his wake, a frightful mess for any servant unlucky enough to come across it.

A trick of the Goose was therefore his first thought when something like music drifted down the hall as he passed by the stone steps into the Count’s wing. He paused and shook his head, focusing more attention on it than it probably deserved. 

It sounded like singing - a haunting, off-kilter warble, half-remembered words and an imitation of his own vibrato that tapered off into violent coughing before resuming singing a little softer, a little more strained, but otherwise delivered with all the confidence of a trained vocalist. It was mesmerizing in his current state, knowing it should sound awful (and it did) and yet unable to stop listening to it.

Against his better judgment, Julian slowly began to make his waterlogged way up the stairs towards it, trying to keep his sloshing steps relatively quiet to keep from drawing attention to himself. 

Hopefully the source wouldn’t be able to hear him over their own tonedeaf melody.

The singing grew louder as he breached the top step, filling the halls and sweeping over him like the warm summer air outside. For the moment he felt none of the usual dread and resentment as he carefully sauntered towards the master bedroom, likely another boon of the Golden Goose. For the moment, this wing was almost  _ welcoming _ .

He wasn’t entirely sure what he intended to do when he got to the bottom of this impromptu concerto. He supposed he’d figure that out when he got there.

When he came to the bedroom, the doors were open.. but the singing was no louder, and the bed itself looked suspiciously bare, missing both its many pillows and its ailing occupant, one of these things a bit more alarming than the other. He couldn’t have gotten far, could he? 

A very stupid impulse suggested looking  _ under _ the bed for him.

The singing stopped, thankfully stopping Julian  _ before _ he’d gotten down on his hands and knees to search.

“Here, Jules.”

He found Lucio on the balcony, curled up in a nest of plush pillows much the same as his wife’s earlier in the night, absently fiddling with a small neatly-wrapped box without really looking at it, instead gazing out towards the Gardens with something like longing. Somehow he seemed much smaller and more pathetic in the pile than the bed.

Had he been there the whole night? 

For a brief moment the idea of asking him about the singing shifted to that question instead, poised on his tongue and then falling away when he couldn’t figure out how to phrase it in a way that would be well-received. 

“You all had a lot of fun,” The Count said evenly, finally glancing towards the sopping wet doctor hovering awkwardly at the threshold, expression inscrutable. “A pity I couldn’t join you.”

“You were asleep when Nadia extended the invitation, I thought it would be rude to wake you.” 

He carefully didn’t mention that she hadn’t extended the invitation to him in the first place, although he had a feeling Lucio already knew. He wondered if this was the first time she’d excluded him from the festivities - given the pain on his face, it may have been.

The little box rattled harder as his picking became more insistent, somehow managing to keep the wrapping intact. “Mm. Was there cake left? I noticed no one came by to bring me any.”

“Oh, I uh, I’m sure there’s more in the kitchen,” As the man who was responsible for eating the last piece of cake, Julian awkwardly cleared his throat and shrugged. “Somewhere. Probably. Some assembly required.”

Lucio squinted at him for a long moment, clearly deliberating on how far he should take that line of inquiry, then shook his head and patted the pillows next to him, a silent demand for companionship with or without cake. 

“Did Noddy like my gift, at least? Of course she did. I didn’t see the exchange but I’m sure it left an impression.”

“... you mean that gift right there?” 

He gestured towards the little box in his grip, and the other man blinked and glanced down at it as though this was the first time he’d seen it, something between shame and alarm dancing on pale features. Another casualty of the Plague, perhaps.

“I’m sure she’ll love it, whatever it is,” Julian hastily added to save him from having to flounder for an excuse, grinning wide and disarming as he stepped towards the nest. He was suddenly very aware of the squelching and squeaking of his boots on marble.

The Count took that distraction as well, scowling at the growing puddle and immediately curling his legs up further in the nest, though it was nowhere near him. 

“Ugh, you’re  _ wet _ ." He sniffed. "You're gonna get my pillows wet.”

“Well, the fountain isn’t exactly dry. Should I go?”

Lucio startled and stared up at him as though he'd suggested skinning one of his dogs to wear as a hat. “What? No. Absolutely not. Just-- stop being wet. Towels are over there, make yourself acquainted with them.”

He wanted to say he was well aware of where the master bath was, thank you, but at the moment he was preoccupied with another very stupid impulse, a more compelling one that managed to wrest open his shirt and clumsily tug it down one shoulder before the cocked brow of interest from his host reminded him where he was, thankfully long before he considered dropping trou.

With another awkward cough he swiftly scuttled across the hall to finish stripping himself of his wet clothing, a snort and derisive croak of ' _ coward'  _ following along behind him. He knew Lucio would not have hesitated if their positions were reversed. Lucio likely wouldn't be wearing anything to get wet in the first place.

It was suddenly very warm up here, and not because of the summer air.

He found a small stack of red towels neatly placed on the side of the immense marble tub, alongside a red robe laid out as though it was meant for him, albeit obviously not his size. The scattered bathing things next to that indicated that this was laid out for the Count, who clearly lost interest or strength for it before he'd come up here. Most likely in favor of making his nest.

After a moment the tonedeaf melody continued, more humming than outright singing, perhaps a sign of confidence that Julian wouldn't just leave while out of his sight. He did briefly consider legging it, with or without his clothing, but in this miserable state he was absolutely useless for anything but sleeping or providing entertainment, apparently, nevermind trying to take another stab at the cure. He knew Asra wouldn't have bothered to wait up for him, either, for business  _ or _ pleasure.

Reluctantly he shrugged on the robe, finding it comfortably snug at his hips and barely capable of harnessing his shoulders, but he was somewhat confident he would remain decent for the evening, provided there wasn't much moving around involved. The hem hung a bit higher than he'd like in present company, but it stubbornly stayed in place despite his best efforts. He kept fussing with it regardless.

"You  _ do _ remember what a towel looks like, don't you, Jules?"

Ah, he'd exceeded that sureness he wasn't going to leave.

Julian finally made his way back towards the balcony, drunken gait somewhat tempered by the tightness around his hips. As he approached, Lucio visibly relaxed and immediately scooted to the side, leaving him enough room to flop down in the nest of pillows but only just, a space made smaller by his companion automatically curling against him the moment he was settled. If it wasn't for the sheerness of this robe, the added heat would be unbearable.

The Count nestled his face in the crook of his neck with a soft sigh of contentment, heedless of any discomfort. "... sing for me."

"I, er, thought you were holding your own concerto." He gave an awkward little smile he knew he wouldn't be able to see, still not quite sure he was allowed to remark on it on the off chance he'd imagined it. "I'd hate to steal your thunder."

"S'not the same. I heard you singing for Noddy. It was nice. I want that."

"Right now?"

Another little derisive snort against his neck before Lucio reluctantly withdrew, balefully gazing up at him. "No, Jules, I was thinking you could serenade my corpse long after the fall of Vesuvia.  _ Yes _ , right now."

When he continued to dumbly sit there, the smaller man rolled his eyes and leaned over the other side of the nest, digging around beneath the pillows with his golden hand. Eventually it surfaced with a familiar bottle in its grasp, half empty but unmistakable - it seems he had also procured some of the Goose for the evening. 

“An incentive.” 

He immediately pressed the whole bottle into Julian's chest with an expectant - and maybe a little disappointed, as if he couldn't believe he'd had to resort to bribery - look in bloodshot eyes. 

Julian hesitated a moment longer, then reluctantly let his fingers curl around the bottle. With the evidence now in hand, he finally noticed the glazed gleam of the drink in those eyes. His own buzz had begun to fade, although he wasn’t quite sure it was safe to drink after him.

Blood and saliva were closely related, after all, and if it was a corruption of the blood…

“Don’t worry, I haven’t put my mouth all over it.” The Count snorted. “I had some glasses earlier but I wanted to see if they’d bounce. Turns out they don’t.”

“... how HAVE you been drinking it, then?” He was pretty sure some broken glass wasn’t going to stop him from continuing to imbibe.

Though he very well could have just _ told  _ him, Lucio instead snatched the bottle back, popping the lid off with his golden thumb before upending it over his mouth, a good inch or two away from his face so he was forced to catch it with his tongue, or at least as much as he could, alcohol trickling down his chin. There was a very comically determined facial expression to go with it.

Julian didn’t bother stopping the stupid, drunken honk of laughter from escaping his throat, figuring at least part of it was being put on for his amusement. 

His host lowered the bottle with a crooked grin and offered it to him again, and though he knew he could drink it normally, the doctor chose to pour it into his mouth as well. It was harder than it looked, coughing and snorting and nearly dropping the bottle as he felt the tell-tale burn of alcohol in his nose, inciting an answering cackle of delight.

“Can’t get out of it by drowning yourself, now.”

“I’ve choked on worse fluids,” A flush of warmth crept into his face as he realized how that sounded. “D’you have any requests, maestro?”

Lucio only chuckled and shook his head, flopping back down in the pillows and staring at him with rapt attention once completely settled.

Given the nature of his audience, Julian knew just what kind of song he would appreciate, clearing his throat and straightening up in the nest before launching into a loud, bawdy tune he’d heard countless times at the docks, amongst barely sober pirates and occasionally muffled beneath startled adult guardian hands. There was a lot of appropriately lascivious brow-waggling at the dirtiest parts, inciting almost childish laughter from the Count.

After the bridge, he could hear another voice joining in, rougher and weaker but confident as always, a gleam of recognition in glazed eyes. Their voices clashed horribly, a dissonance of drunken sounds, but in a way it was almost charming, reminding him more of a local pub than the opulent balcony he knew he was sitting on. For a brief moment, he almost felt at home.

When the song ended - nearly shouted into the heavens as it was meant to be, causing distant lights to twinkle on in other rooms and the sudden barking of Lucio’s dogs - Lucio was launching into a similarly crude serenade, this one with a bit more killing and bleeding mixed in with the mentions of genitals. 

He didn’t know this one, but that didn’t stop him from muddling through with him, making it up as he went along. The older man didn’t stop, and in fact seemed to appreciate his creativity, changing up the words himself to fit the tune in a delighted drunken yowl, getting up from the nest to shout his finale over the railing like a call to war, echoing throughout the Gardens.

The coughing fit that followed echoed as well, but he didn’t seem too put off by it, flopping back down and finishing off the Goose with one overzealous jerk of his hand.

“You do realize people are trying to  _ sleep _ at this hour,” Julian chuckled, fully aware he wasn’t helping this in the slightest.

The Count outright laughed. “Yeah? Well, they should’ve thought about that before they left me out of Noddy’s birthday celebrations. Keep going, it’s just getting good.”

Julian obligingly continued, and though he tried to keep up Lucio's voice soon began to peter out into half-intelligible mumbling, eventually draping in his lap and soaking it in as a solo. This one he also had to make up the words to, not that his audience would know the difference, sleepy little giggles muffled against his chest at the most ridiculous parts. 

He seemed to be winding down, either due to his sickness or his lack of sobriety. He probably should have stopped him from drinking quite so much, but he looked relatively calm, his eyes slowly falling shut, murmuring another bout of half-remembered lyrics into his shirt, even after the song had already ended.

In honor of this, Julian’s next song was a ballad, slow and calming in direct contrast to the high-energy yowling earlier. 

“You’re trying to put me to sleep, aren’t you?” Lucio mumbled with a wry grin. 

He paused. “Do you want me to stop?”

“... hell no. It’s beautiful.”

It wasn’t long before the grip around his waist had completely fallen slack, soft snoring muffled into his chest instead. He found himself drawn to gently stroke his hair as he continued singing to him, a flicker of a smile on ashen lips inciting some kind of fond warmth in his chest he knew wasn’t the alcohol.

He let the ballad come to a close rather than cutting it off just because it was working, in case he could still hear it, letting silence fall over the balcony more naturally, like a warm shroud.

After a moment, when he was  _ absolutely _ sure he wouldn’t stir, Julian very slowly slid his hands up under the Count’s prone body, gently turning him over onto his back so that he was holding him in a bridal carry as he stood up, something the man likely wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to see even in this condition. 

There was nothing to him. It was like carrying warm air. He shook his head and carefully carried him back to his bed, setting him across red silk sheets before going back for the pillows, and then the little box, arranging the former around their owner and setting the latter on the nightstand next to him.

He briefly considered delivering it to Nadia for him, but it wasn’t his gift to give. He hoped she  _ would  _ like it. Being left alone on her big night had hurt him enough.

“Goodnight, Lucio.” Julian murmured, creeping out of the master bedroom.

Distantly he heard something like “g’night, Jules”.

***

The next morning, he heard them getting into a shouting match.

He wasn’t trying to listen, but he couldn’t help but overhear it, standing awkwardly by the steps waiting for Nadia to rejoin them for today’s trip to the Summer Palace.

Something about Lucio picking out the gift - a ring, it sounded like - for him instead of her, just using her as an excuse to buy what he wanted, Lucio trying to defend his choices and making it worse, Nadia storming out with the angriest ‘thank you’ Julian had ever heard.

He could hear Lucio’s voice still yelling as she brushed past him to go back down the stone steps, asking where the hell she thought she was going, don’t you dare  _ abandon _ me at a time like this, I deserve a holiday more than any of you and you know it. 

Business as usual, he supposed. He rather missed the Lucio that had spent the night singing with him.

“Jules? Jules, where are  _ you  _ going?” 

Oh damn, he’d noticed him. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going with her. I need you here, Jules. You have to stay here.”

Julian said nothing, turning to follow her down the steps, wincing at the enraged screaming that echoed down after him.

**Author's Note:**

> it's ok he got to hang out w/ valerius after this: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21774247


End file.
